The Incident
by BakaChan003
Summary: Seriously, what alternate universe did I wake up in this morning? Someone could have told me I was gonna get pickled with a scarfless, coatless Russia in an empty conference room today. Russia/America


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia.

M'kay guys, this idea came from the depths of Hell. Okay, not really. I hope everyone enjoys it. Umm...I don't know what else to say...

**Warnings:** POV change at the end, watch out for it! Also...use of alcohol and gratuitous cursing.

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Why do I have it? _Why_ do I have his scarf? More importantly, _why hasn't he noticed yet?? _

There's no way he doesn't know. I'm sure he knows I have it. But he still hasn't said anything. He's just sitting there, looking over some notes. Come to think of it, I don't even really know _how_ I got a hold of this thing. He took it off, didn't he? That's a first. Or did it fall off? Where the hell was _I_ when this made its way into my hands? Maybe I was spacing out and he gave it to me? That's stupid. Why would he do that? Oh, he's...rolling his shoulders or something. Has he noticed it's gone? I'm holding it under the table right now. When he notices it's gone, I hope he doesn't blame me first. Even though he and I are the only people in the room. Come to think of it, where _is_ everyone? A lunch break? And no one told me?? Seriously, where the hell w_as_ I for the past five minutes?

I should just leave now. Without the scarf. It's not like I _want_ it or anything. I didn't consciously take it. I didn't. Oh shit, he's looking at me. Keep a straight face. Blink. Avert eyes and whistle quietly. What was that look he gave me just now? Does he know?? That bastard, how dare he smile like that! All smug-looking and shit. I'll bet he thinks I _want_ his stupid scarf. Just because it's soft doesn't mean I like it. I wonder what it smells like. Not that I actually care. Probably smells like vodka and borscht or shitherehecomes. Hunching...hunching over my lap to hide the scarf. Chin on table. Thank God, he passed me! A little too closely. So that's what the scarf smells like. Does he wear cologne or something? Or is that the smell of evil? If it is, no wonder people give in to it. It smells _damn good_. Not that I'd ever actually say so.

Huh?

He set a short glass of alcohol directly in front of my face. Bastard, there's that _smile_ again. He says it's scotch. I'll bet he poisoned it. Maybe even spit in it. I don't trust him. Why is he drinking scotch instead of vodka? Well, I guess everyone needs to switch it up every now and then. Even I need to change the seasonings in my hamburgers once in a while. Crap, did he just ask me something?? I think he did. He keeps staring at me. Is his chair closer to me than it was before? I have no idea what's going on. Obviously I'm not reading the atmosphere, as Japan would say. Wish I could read Russia's _face_ at least. He's giving me this weird look like I'm mentally challenged or something.

Dick.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my head is still on the table, so I'm looking at him through a glass of scotch. I'm actually feeling a little nervous for some reason, so I sit up and kinda chug the alcohol. I wasn't expecting it to burn so badly on the way down though, so I'm sputtering all over the place. Guess that appeased him. Apparently he's never happy unless someone's suffering. Shitshitshit he's getting up again. Using some mad skillz I'm somehow able to hide the scarf under me before he passes by again. _Damn_, he smells good! And I'll be taking that opinion to the grave. Oh my God, he's brought over the whole bottle of scotch. And he's pulling out his vodka. Aaand taking off his coat. His damned _coat_. Seriously, what alternate universe did I wake up in this morning? Someone could have _told_ me I was gonna get pickled with a scarfless, coatless Russia in an empty conference room today.

Great, so now he's refilling my glass. And he just told me to drink it. He fucking_ told_ me to, like he thinks he can just order me around! I am _so_ gonna set him straight!

...After I finish this glass. I can wait. Not like he scares me or anything. I just feel like drinking, is all. Gotta let loose once in a while, y'know? Let loose...that's right!! Why the hell aren't I telling him off?? I'm the fucking U.S. of A.! I _always_ speak my mind! I don't sit here, meekly trying not to draw attention to myself! I'm gonna--!!

...Stare at the way he licks away the liquid that spilled down the side of his glass. Ohmygod he's licking his lips. And I am _definitely_ not paying attention to him. Nope, I'm just sitting here. Just ignoring him, innocently imagining his mouth on myWHOATHERE. Hold it, cowboy! We don't do that 'round these parts! Taking another gulp of alcohol now. Oh crap, don't tell me I'm blushing. Don't let him see!! Damn it, he's talking to me again and I don't know what he said because I was so surprised that he spoke after what I just imagined and crap I snorted into my drink. No prob. I play it off totally casual and wipe my mouth with my sleeve before uttering a simple, 'Whad'ya say?'.

Hang on.

Did he just roll his eyes at me? He did! But he's not repeating himself. Instead, he's...he's refilling my glass again. Is he trying to get me drunk? Does he have some kind of evil plan?? But he's drinking, too. A challenge, then!? So, he wants to see who can get drunk first, huh? Little does he know, Alfred F. Jones can drink _anyone_ under the table! To incite some fear, I chug the whole glass, slam it down and refill it myself. Then the dick feels he has to inform me that they're not shots. I glare at him and toss back another. I'm just being nice and giving him a chance to get on equal footing with me. I don't have anything to worry about.

~ 32 Minutes Later ~

Could someone remind me why I'm...what exactly _am_ I doing? God, I'm really yakking my head off. Maybe I should shut up. But he looks so interested! I wish I knew why...s'far as I know, I'm telling him about the...the...forgot I still have his scarf. He's not getting it. It's mine now. And not because I wanna take it home and smell it all the time, nosiree. I just want him to suffer without it. Man, my eyes keep crossing. He's smiling again. Guess it's not so bad. He actually looks pretty hot when he's not doing that _other_ smile, the one...yeah, the one. Damn it, he said something and I didn't catch it again. I'm pretty sure I was busy drooling onto the back of my hand. OK, now he's...God, he's moving closer. What's he doing? Shit, Russia's on the move! Take cover!! Oh Christ, he's...he's gonna...

~:~o~:~

Alfred moans into the kiss as Ivan presses him into the chair. It's hard to breathe. The Russian is invading his mouth, sucking on his tongue. He blushes deeply when Ivan moves to his neck and bites down. Alfred doesn't have time to wonder what prompted all this attention. He doesn't even care, so long as the other man isn't stopping. Ivan's hand is suddenly on his thigh, squeezing lightly and making its way up. The blonde groans lightly and hopes it moves just a little to the left. But the hand is moving beneath him, kneading his ass. Alfred gasps and lifts his hips, hoping to come in contact with some part of the other man's body. But wait...that feeling...

And suddenly Alfred realizes his wrists are bound with Ivan's scarf.

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So? Was it everything you hoped? _I_ hope everyone enjoyed it. My little notes sound kinda snippety, eh? No excuse! It's 2am and I feel like crap XD Ehh, I really do hope it was OK though. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!!

As for you horny kids that are thinking of asking me to continue with a lemon...I promise nothing. I'm a notorious slacker. But that doesn't mean I'm outright refusing to write one. There, now you can suffer in suspense! Mwaha. Oh man, I'm mean when I'm tired and hurting. I'll cut this short now, don't wanna leave a bad taste after the fic.


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